With Friends Like These, Who Needs Enemies?
by Ardhoniel Marvelite
Summary: The Guardians try to decide whose turn it is to do chores. Of course, this isn't a recipe for disaster... Humourous oneshot. Marvel owns everything.


**With Friends Like These, Who Needs Enemies?**

 ** _For Llwydyn and Myth Queen. Enjoy!_**

Peter frowned as the sound of yelling drowned out his Walkman. Did his team not understand the meaning of 'I want a bit of peace and quiet'?! He turned up the volume for a few more minutes, trying to ignore the fighting, (and the nagging feeling he'd forgotten something) but the shouting got too loud and he rolled off his bunk with a groan, stomping out to the common area to see what was going on. Groot stood between Rocket and Drax, both of whom were yelling at each other, making it impossible to hear what either was saying. Groot saw Peter and ran over as fast as his three-feet tall form would allow. "I am Groot!"

Peter sighed, moving to get between the raccoon and the tattooed warrior. They took no notice at first, continuing to yell obscenities at each other. He took a deep breath. "SHUT UP!" There. Mission accomplished- they'd stopped yelling. "Ok, so what's going on, guys?"

"Rocket is refusing to do his fair share of ship-keeping tasks!"

"It ain't my turn, I did it last time!" Rocket's fur puffed up as it often did when he was angry.

"You did no such thing. Last time you simply left it until Gamora grew impatient and did the task for you!"

Peter wondered if bashing his head on a wall would help sort this out- it would probably be more effective than trying to get a straight answer out of these two! "What job are you refusing to do now, Rocket?"

"I told ya, I ain't refusin' to do anything, it's Drax's turn!"

Peter's fists clenched. _I mustn't kill my own team_. "What's Drax's turn?!" _And why hasn't Gamora settled this like she normally does?_

"Gamora's gone to get more food supplies for us, and she told Drax to clear out any spoiled food before she got back. Only he's tryin' to make me do it."

"Friend Gamora did _not_ tell me to clear out the waste food, and I repeat that it is _your_ turn to do so!"

"It is not!" Rocket produced a grenade (from somewhere) and waved it at Drax menacingly. "I don't do kitchen jobs!"

Peter moved towards Rocket cautiously. "Rocket, we all share chores round here, you know that."

"I don't care! I ain't gettin' melted and rotting food stuck in my fur again!"

"You see!" Drax bellowed. "The rodent attempts to foist his duties on me!"

"DON'T CALL ME A RODENT!"

"I am Groot!" The Flora Colossus sounded panicked as Rocket lunged at Drax, forgetting the explosive device he held. Peter tried to get between them, as did Groot. In the ensuing scuffle, the small grenade was dropped, and the brawl ended abruptly when an explosion rocked the ship and flung them all in different directions.

As the smoke cleared, Peter stood slowly, glad to be in one piece. He quickly checked the other guys- all fine, thankfully- before he registered the smell of charred metal. He stared in horror at the blackened hole in the Milano's floor. "You've gotta be kidding me. Rocket! We only just got her repaired after your _last_ project backfired!"

"Whoops. Sorry, Quill. I'll fix it, I promise."

Peter's eyebrows rose. "Really?"

"Yeah- it means I get outta cleaning up leftover food!"

Peter just rolled his eyes as Drax huffed, looked around, then, instead of resuming the fight, strode away. Peter, Rocket and Groot stared after him.

"I am Groot?"

"Beats me, buddy. Maybe he just ain't in the mood for a fight?"

Peter shook his head. "Drax not in the mood for a fight? He must be ill if that's the case."

"Or maybe he just plans to make you three explain why our ship is damaged. _Again_."

They all flinched at the hard tone of Gamora's voice. Peter tried for a winning smile as he turned to face her. "Hey, Mora. How was grocery shopping?"

The Zehoberi woman's expression would have melted steel. "Enchantingly peaceful compared to the usual events of time spent with you three. What. In. Blazes. Happened?"

"Uh... Rocket and Drax were fighting again and things got out of hand."

Rocket had the grace to look sheepish. "Sorry."

Gamora pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fine, whatever. Rocket, you are going to fix this, and clean up the debris while you're at it. Groot is going to help me put the shopping away and Peter, you can go and remove any more potential explosive devices from Rocket's bunk. Understood?"

No-one dared to argue, and Gamora nodded, satisfied, as she headed for the kitchen, Groot scuttling after her.

Rocket began picking up shards of metal, gathering them in a small pile, muttering under his breath. He risked one glance up at Peter, who had yet to move. (He'd been watching Gamora walk away, daydreaming about who-knew-what.) "Remind me again why you let your girlfriend boss us all around, Quill? I thought this was _your_ ship!"

"She's not my girlfriend!" Peter's face flamed. (Though quite what he and Gamora _were_ , he didn't know- they'd never discussed it.) "And we do what she says because she's better than us at keeping this ship habitable, remember? And she's better at keeping her head than the rest of us combined."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't hurt yourself picking up my weapons, will ya?" Rocket called after him as Peter headed to Rocket's bunk. Peter had already replaced his walkman though, and probably hadn't heard.

There was a panicked "I am Groot!" followed by a loud thud. The Flora Colossus ran out of the kitchen, passing Rocket, as Gamora's yell sounded.

"PETER QUILL! Why haven't you cleared out the rubbish like I asked?!"

Rocket sniggered to himself as Gamora stalked towards the bunks, looking as if she wanted to flay the half-Terran. _Good at keeping her head, is she, Quill? That'll teach him to try and dump his chores on us!_

 **The End**


End file.
